


Giving In

by KaramelHaven



Category: The Mummy (2017)
Genre: Betrayal, Devotion, F/M, Magic, Mental connection, Possession, Prodigium, Thrall - Freeform, Visions, Worship, living gods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-16 05:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11247201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaramelHaven/pseuds/KaramelHaven
Summary: What if Ahmanet's hold on Nick was stronger than anyone realized and just needed a moment uninterrupted to take hold?When Nick goes to seek out the plane crash, without Jenny tagging along, he falls under Ahmanet's thrall more than ever. With Nick utterly devoted to Ahmanet and seeking to please her any way he can, what would the fate of the world come to?





	1. Sacred Oaths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I saw the movie, I felt like Nick suddenly changed tunes after his vision of the crash site because he didn't want Jenny to focus on him. It made me wonder what would happen if he'd gone to the church alone without Jenny there with him to distract him and interrupt things. I imagine that, without Jenny's presence niggling in Nick's mind, he'd be more receptive to Ahmanet and her sway. This is where my mind took me.
> 
> I don't own the Mummy :-)

It was like a calm had settled over his mind.

One moment he was yelling at Jenny, demanding to know why she was suddenly trying to tell him he was delusional after having just told him she thought they’d angered the gods in finding her long lost Egyptian princess, one moment he was telling her the mummy was real…and the next…

It was like he couldn’t even remember why he was so desperate for her to believe him. It was like he just…didn’t want to be around her any longer, he wanted to go. Yes, yes that was it. He wanted to walk away from her, but he wouldn’t be able to if she thought he was insane or upset.

“Nick?” Jenny’s voice called out, echoing in his mind. “What is it?”

“I um…” He shook his head, taking a breath and letting it out with a little tired laugh. “I think you’re right. I...this is all in my head.”

Mummies? Curses? Gods? It sounded ridiculous, it really did, and he had to laugh at himself for getting so worked up over it.

“Can't we just find the box, look inside, and when I see a 3,000 years old prune in there, no more curse.”

“You don’t need a sarcophagus, you need a doctor,” Jenny argued as he stepped past her. "I know someone. A specialist in London...

Nick paused, turning to face her, about to taunt her into joining him, a spiteful part of him wanting her to come with him as a niggling sensation in his mind told him she’d be proven wrong, wanted to cut down her arrogance.

But instead, he just nodded along. “I think you might be right,” he admitted. “I just…it’s been a hell of a day, Jenny. I just want to just get some sleep. Maybe if I can just rest, I’ll feel better about all this.”

Jenny nodded, seeming pleased. “I’ll go with you.”

“No,” he waved her off. “No I’m just gonna go to the nearest hotel and sleep. I’ll call you in the morning and we can talk about your doctor friend. Ok?”

Jenny didn’t seem pleased with it, but nodded anyway. “CALL me,” she insisted.

“Ok.”

He turned and started walking away, breaking into a run the second he was out of her eyesight to duck down the closest alleyway, bracing his back against it as he sank down behind a rubbish bin. He could hear it, her footsteps following his path, the woman clearly intending to follow him as he peeked up above the bin to see her pass the alley, not seeing him there.

He sank back down, rubbing his head as his heart slowed, trying to make sense of it all.

He’d wanted Jenny to come with him to check on the mummy, so why had he lied to her? The second he’d turned to “go to the hotel” he knew he wouldn’t. He was going to find that corpse if it was the last thing he did…so why had he sent Jenny on a wild goose chase?

He’d wanted her to go with him, hadn’t he? He’d wanted her to see the mummy was alive and real. But he’d lied to her, made her think he was staying where he was, made her wander around looking for him in places he wouldn’t be.

Why?

He tried to think back to what had possessed him to do it.

He’d felt that eerie calm settle over him, felt an intense desire to look upon the mummy that had nearly overruled everything he’d been feeling. And then it was like two parts of him were at war. One part wanted to drag Jenny along, force her to admit she was wrong. And another part…

Yes, that was why he’d sent her away.

Another part didn’t want her to see. 

Another part of him didn’t want to…to share.

Share what though? Share the discovery? Share the treasure likely hidden in the sarcophagus? Share…share the mummy?

He didn’t know what it was but a part of him wanted to go there alone. It didn’t want Jenny around or anywhere near him. It just…it wanted to go. It wanted to find the mummy…

He nodded to himself and pushed himself up, so that’s what he’d do. Jenny would likely just antagonize him the entire way. It was better he go it alone. That way, if he was wrong, he wouldn’t have to hear her say she was right or that she’d told him so. And if he WAS right?

He didn’t know but he felt in his heart he wanted to be right more than anything…

And with that thought in mind he pushed off the wall and started walking down the alley, heading for the crash site.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Nick hadn’t even realized he wasn’t at the crash site till he’d stopped at the edge of a field and had to climb under a fence, a spotlight shining in the distance right into his eyes and shaking him from his drifting thoughts. He gasped, looking around as he tried to work out where he was and WHY he was there.

He knew where the crash site was, he’d seen it on the television, and he could see the helicopters in the distance searching it…

So why was he a hundred meters away from it?

He frowned as he looked at the building ahead of him on the other side of the field. It was a monastery or a church of some sort. An abbey? Was that what the news had called it?

The more he thought about it, the less important it seemed what it was called or what it is. It only mattered that he was in the right place.

Yes, he was in the right place, he could feel it.

A rational part of his mind told him that it was just logic. The plane had been crashing and things were falling out of it so it stood to reason to search things away from the main crash site. 

…another part of his mind whispered that wasn’t the reason he felt drawn here at all.

He shook that thought off and began to head for the church, stepping carefully through the ruins around the edge of it and looking around. He could feel his heart rate picking up, a sense of anticipation filling him the longer he looked around.

He turned suddenly when he heard a creaking noise and blinked at the sight of the heavy church doors opening, a figure shrouded in the darkness of the night standing there. Despite how dark it was, he could make out a faint glow around them, linen cloth in strands wrapped around a feminine body, black hair draped over a shoulder and a pale white face. 

The figure reached out to him, lifting its hand in a beckoning, offering motion, staring at him just over its palm…

And with a flash of the search lights in his face, his vision whited out and suddenly he was back in Egypt, standing in the desert on a clear, bright day…

And there was the princess before him, her enchanting eyes locked on his, her hand reaching out to him, begging for him to take it, to accept it, accept her.

His breath left him as he felt his feet move towards her, his eyes never leaving her alluring ones. His heart was pounding by the time he reached her, lifting his own hand to gently touch hers. He drew in a deep breath at the feel of her hand, warm and soft and REAL in his own.

He could feel electricity travel up his arm from where her hand joined in his, spreading through is body with the most delicious heat he’d ever felt. It was like every part of him, parts he didn’t even know existed, were reaching out to her, wanting to be closer to her, craving more of her tempting touch.

She smiled at him, a smirk really, that nearly brought him to his knees to see on her face, her eyes sparkling with a pleased light. She was happy with him and he felt elation fill him, felt himself smile in return at her as she began to move backwards, tugging him lightly to follow her across the sands.

She turned between one step and another, facing forward to lead him on and a part of his heart cracked to no longer be able to see her captivating eyes.

As though feeling his longing, she turned to look at him over her shoulder, her entire countenance bleeding seduction, her gaze drawing him in like a moth to a flame he never wanted to extinguish. 

He hadn’t even realized they were not alone in the desert till she stopped moving and he realized she had been leading him towards a bed of stark white, the frame made of gold, with high posts and a white billowing canopy around it. 

She tugged him closer, taking his other hand and turning him without breaking her gaze from him till the backs of his legs were pressed against the bed’s side.

“Setepa'i,” she whispered, leaning up to press a sensual kiss to his lips, distracting him enough to nudge him just a little more, guiding him to sit on the bed’s edge.

She pulled away a moment later, just as he began to press his lips more firmly to hers, to gaze into his eyes, drawing him in. She began to lean in more, her hands moving to either side of him, lifting onto a knee to join him on the bed, making him crawl backwards to lie in the center of it with her following, neither of them looking away.

Nick nearly let out a groan when she moved a leg onto his other side, settling onto his waist and leaning over him. He gazed up at her, a small, entranced smile on his face at the beautiful, enchanting woman resting over him, seeming so…pleased and content with him.

She leaned in, whispering something against his cheek, he didn’t understand what it was she was saying…but the language and the way she spoke was so beautiful he didn’t care. She could be reciting the digits of pi and he would think it was the most glorious rendition known to man.

She pulled away and the only thing that kept him from trying to pull her back closer to him was the fact he could see her now. She reached out, touching his cheeks in a feather light touch, trailing them down his neck to his shirt…

And ripping it open.

He felt his blood start to boil and sing from the action, felt himself stirring as well from the way she was gazing at his body like it was something to be worshiped. God, he wanted to worship her and he would, right now he felt like he would do anything to stay there with her like this.

She leaned in, her hand coming up to the top of one of the bed’s frame while the other explored his body, to take hold of something he didn’t even see nor care to look at, his eyes were fixed on her.

She paused a moment, looking at him with the barest hint of surprise before her gaze drifted down to where his hands had come to rest on her thighs, bent beside his chest, he was lightly caressing them. He didn’t stop even when she stared at them, instead began to smirk when he saw her lips quirk up. 

He’d pleased her…and that felt…he couldn’t describe the sense of euphoria he felt at that knowledge.

“Setepa'i,” she murmured, her voice soft in its surprise but taunting and tempting in its pleasure, her free hand drifting up from his chest to touch his cheek.

He felt something trail his chest and looked down to see she was holding an ancient looking dagger in her other hand, was lightly brushing the tip down his chest.

The smallest fraction of his mind told him he should be terrified, he should be fighting to get free, because a dagger that close to him would never be a good thing and he was probably about to get stabbed.

The majority of his mind couldn’t care less.

He felt like he would gladly die a thousand deaths at her hand if it would make her happy.

And so he felt himself smile in contentment, his gaze lazily drifting back up to her own, taking an endless amount of satisfaction in how she seemed intrigued by his reaction.

He wanted to see more of that, he wanted to see her eyes sparkling with emotion only HE could give her and one of his hands drifted off of her thigh to curl around hers as it held the dagger, guiding it towards his heart in a silent acceptance of her desire.

She let out a breathy sound at that, one that came across to him as entirely too erotic for him to continue to lie on that bed that much longer. Images were swarming his mind at that sound, imagining the ways he could get her to make it again. He saw images of rising up, of pressing his lips to hers, of surprising her with his initiation, of grabbing her around the waist and twisting them so she was pressed into the bed with him over her, covering her body with his…

He forced himself to focus, forced the thoughts to cut off there but he felt like she knew where his mind had gone. His body was already reacting, his heart racing, his breathing coming fast, his pupils likely blown wide.

She grinned down at him, lifting her hand from his cheek to the dagger, allowing his hand to fall away now that two of hers were enclosed around it. She muttered more words in the enthralling language and lifted herself up, gaining height and power as she raised the dagger up…

And brought it plunging down at his heart.

He didn’t even flinch…even as the dagger failed to pierce his skin, seeming to stop just a hair’s breath away from him, as though some force were preventing it from touching him.

She let out such a sorrowful, heartbroken breath at that that Nick felt his own heart shatter at the look in her eyes.

She lifted the dagger closer to her, tilting it this way and that till she noticed there was a hollow part on the end of it.

Something in Nick’s mind flashed to the thought of a stone, there should be a stone there.

And there wasn’t now.

And Ahmanet looked so upset about it, like she was a failure…

He quickly reached up, covering her hands with both of his and shifted himself to sit up as well.

She looked up at him, her eyes devastated…only to see him gazing at her with such a pleading look that it seemed to take HER breath away this time. She reached out with one hand to touch his face and he leaned into it, a hand coming up to press her hand more firmly to his skin.

"Tell me," he nearly begged of her, imploring her to let him know what he could do to help her, to ease her pain.

She tilted her head to the side, gazing at him before she smiled almost coyly, as though she needed to tempt him into doing what she wanted. “My Chosen…” her voice whispered in his mind, and he heard two sets of it, he heard the words in English, but he heard her speak in her native tongue at the same time. “My love.”

His eyes fell closed at that, something inside him seeming to slot into place at the intonation. "Yes..." he breathed, long and drawn out, shivers racing through him at the claim she laid on him, feeling everything inside him want to submit.

She smirked, pleased. "What will you do for me, my Chosen?" she lightly stroked his cheek with her thumb. "What will you give me, my Love?"

"Anything," he found himself responding before he was even conscious of it. He spoke with such a promise in his voice, as though he were making the most sacred of vows to her. "Everything." 

“I need the stone,” she continued, stroking his cheek till he looked at her. “Find it,” she implored. “Bring it to me.”

He felt himself nodding, a determination filling him, a desperation and a need to see her will done above anything else. "I will."

“Then,” she leaned in, pleased with his response. “We shall be together. Forever.”

Nothing had ever sounded that appealing to him. Nothing had ever sounded more tempting. Nothing had ever sounded so right.

Yes, together. They would be together. Forever. He and his princess. 

He would do it. He would find the stone and bring it to her or he would die trying. Because she wanted it, he would find it, he would do anything she wanted.

He would burn the world to the ground and build her a kingdom with his bare hands if he had to.

Anything to please her.

“My Chosen…” was her breathy response, as though she could see into his mind and read his thoughts.

And if she could? That was all the better. He wanted her to know. He wanted her to see the depth of his devotion to her, the lengths he would go to see her pleased, the desire he…the desire he felt for her.

He inhaled deeply at that, seeing the smallest hint of tears in her eyes, tears of joy and satisfaction and triumph and desire…her soul was bared to him to see and it was beautiful.

He felt like something had hooked itself into his heart, his mind, and his very soul and was tethered to her and it felt…glorious.

SHE made him feel like that.

And it was his honor to make her feel that in return.

He gave her a small smile as he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a move that seemed to surprise her but one she wholly returned. He would have gladly spent the rest of his life kissing her, but he was mortal yet and had to pull away when the need to breathe became too much. She seemed disappointed that their embrace was cut off, which made him smirk smugly to know he had as much an effect on her as she had over him.

And what a powerful effect it was.

He couldn’t look away from her if he tried, not when she was smiling at him, and he never wanted to.

She reached out with her other hand, it coming to rest on his neck in a tender touch…

When she suddenly cried out in pain and was jerked backwards away from him.

He gasped, the bright desert shattering around him in such a disorienting suddenness that he scrambled back and fell off of an alter in the middle of the decrepit church. He nearly screamed when he felt a pain stab through his chest and a burning sensation spread out from his neck and struggled to get his bearings enough. He felt light headed and woozy, the room spinning as he felt a weakness take hold of him.

He scrambled to try and stand, but only managed to get to his knees in time to see Ahmanet, wrapped in her mummification bandages, her skin pale white, her hair covered in cobwebs, being yanked back by a number of ropes attached to what looked like grappling hooks sticking out of her chest, darts with small pompoms stuck in her neck.

She was crying out in agonized pain, struggling to escape her bonds as men in black with guns swarmed into the church, rushing to subdue her.

He tried to reach out for her, but stumbled forward, the combination of the pain radiating through him and the jarring sensation of being pulled out of such a powerful vision weakening him. He looked up, blinking blearily as a man approached him.

“Who…who are you?” he managed to get out.

But the man just fired his weapon at him, a dart sticking into his neck as he fell backwards, the tranquilizer acting fast.

The last thing he saw before the world went dark was Ahmanet being crowded by the men, heavy chains in their arms, and him being powerless to defend her…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first attempt to write a fanfiction that doesn't revolve around the TV show Supergirl or the pairing of Karamel (my favorite on the show). But I saw the movie over the weekend and there was just something about the potential between Nick and Ahmanet that just would NOT let go of me. So I thought I'd give it a shot. I don't know when I'll update next, but I plan for there to be at least 4 or 5 chapters of the story :-) I hope you enjoyed this what if take on Nick/Ahmanet.
> 
> I'm a sucker for movies where a character shares some sort of mental bond or spiritual connection to the "villain" and is drawn to them, whether it's a magical "chosen" moment in this movie or some reincarnation mojo. I'm always disappointed with how we never really get to see that bond solidify and become unbreakable, see that person JOIN the "villain" and give into the bond's power so I wanted to explore that here. I really loved the hold Ahmanet had on Nick and it made me excited to imagine what it would have been like if he HAD given in and done it earlier in the film :-)


	2. Prisoners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the most part, anything said in italics will be Ancient Egyptian :-)

Nick jolted as he felt himself wake, realizing he was being dragged down a dark hallway, his arms restrained in a body vest, with two armed men on either side of him, holding him up. He staggered a moment, struggling to get his body working again and began to walk between them.

“Where are you taking me?” he demanded of the man in front of him, leading them down the hall. “What's happening?”

The men were silent as they led him on.

He looked around, back over his shoulder, his gaze frantic for Ahmanet. He remembered the church, he remembered being there with her, the men that had swarmed them and captured her. He couldn’t see her and he felt an intense anger fill him at the realization that the men around him were the ones that attacked her, that had clearly separated him from her.

But he held his tongue. They had attacked her, aggressively restrained her, if he spoke about her…he couldn’t risk them keeping him from her. He needed to be smart with this, if he ever wanted a chance to find her, he needed to play his cards right. He looked up when the leading man pressed his thumb to a scanner and opened a door to what appeared to be a collection room filled with various oddities. He saw a giant squid, a clawed and webbed arm, a skull with fangs…which did little to assuage him that Ahmanet was alright. Clearly these people captured supernatural creatures for a living and harvested them.

It took everything in him to not strain in his bonds at the thought of them laying a finger on her…

Another door opened ahead of them and he was led into a large office space, a medical chair set up on a dais behind him, a wall full of medical equipment and screws and saws beside him.

“Stay,” one of the men ordered as they freed him of the body vest.

“Make yourself comfortable!” a jolly voice called as another man, in a suit and a well trimmed haircut, stepped in, carrying a file in one arm, his hand covered in a black glove.

“Who the hell are you?” Nick demanded as the other men left.

“Who am I?” the man chuckled, setting the files down on the edge of a desk and only picking up a folder of it. “The more relevant question, Mr. Morton is: Who exactly are you? In theory, I know all about you.” The man turned and walked over to him, standing before him and looking at him through the bottom of his glasses. “Army reconnaissance, decorated soldier, and page after page indicating a deep and troubling moral attitude. But you see, this file contains nothing of any real value to me. That's why I wanted to see you face to face.” He tilted his head down to peer at him over the top of his spectacles.

Nick’s jaw clenched as he heard the man list off information about him. Something clawed within him, revolted against the terms used to describe him. There was nothing in there about Ahmanet which both relieved him and infuriated him. None of the information mattered, nothing about who he was or who he’d been, not anymore. The only thing that mattered to him was that he was her Chosen, he was her love, and he was going to be her soldier, her protector, he was going to be the one who saved her from this man before him and the ones who followed him.

So he was relieved there was nothing about THAT in the file.

“Who are you?” he demanded again.

“I am a doctor.”

“Doctor…” He shook his head, waiting for a last name.

“Chemical pathology, neurosurgery,” the man stepped past him to a desk beside the medical chair. “Member of the Royal Society. I am also a lawyer. My name is Jekyll. Dr. Henry Jekyll. There you are!” The man grinned as he picked up a locked briefcase of sorts and carried it back to his desk, throwing a casual: “These days, I specialize in immunology, perhaps. Infectious diseases perhaps,” at Nick as he passed. “I would like to, if I may, Mr. Morton, to tell you a story.”

Nick couldn’t even begin to tell the man that no, he didn’t care to hear any story, to explain that he felt his skin crawling and itching to be out of that room and where Ahmanet was.

He let out a slow, deep breath at that, feeling his heart pounding in his chest as a realization seeped into him. There was something tugging at him from within, an urge to go in a certain direction than the one he’d come from. And he knew, without a doubt, that it was Ahmanet calling to him through the bond they shared. She was there, in that facility, and she needed him. He could feel it, he could feel her presence in his bones…So no, he didn’t want to hear any story that would just prolong their time apart.

Unfortunately, Jekyll merely continued, unaware. “A story about a patient of mine. A man of promise. A man who believed he was beyond reproach until he got ill.” Nick glanced down as Jekyll popped open the locked case revealing four thin vials of a yellow substance within. “The disease manifested itself in subtle ways at first. And then it grew into an overwhelming desire, an unquenchable thirst, for chaos, for the suffering of others.”

Jekyll seemed to struggle to breathe for a moment, his skin taking on an eerie grey tone, his eyes starting to flash amber as he worked on slotting the vials into a crude looking device with four needles sticking out of the end of it.

“He was quite fortunate. He himself was a physician. And if evil were a pathogen, to be reasoned then there must surely be a cure.” Jekyll pressed the needles into his hand, having pulled the black glove down to reveal a disfigured patch of skin where he had clearly injected himself a number of times in the past. A moment later the grey skin receded, the glow faded from his eyes as he slumped in his seat, catching his breath. “I would like to, if I may, Mr. Morton, to show you something.”

Nick could only nod as the man pushed himself up with a smile and moved towards a door in a glass wall that separated the office from a selection of bookshelves, gesturing for him to follow as he pressed a hand to a scanner to unlock the door. He could feel that pull within him, getting stronger in the direction Jekyll was leading him and had to force himself not to walk too quickly and give himself away. It was harder still when Jekyll led him into a large room with equipment set up everywhere, a catwalk above them…and Ahmanet, chained and on her knees, stationed on a grate in the center of the room, whimpering and moaning in discomfort and pain.

He only just caught himself from rushing to her, the flare of anger and desperation to go to her nearly overwhelming him at the sight of her. She was on her knees, forced there by the weight of a chain bound around her neck, tubes sticking into it with flashes of silver appearing as it traveled up the tubes towards her. Her arms were yanked backwards in an uncomfortable position.

His heart burned to see her freed from the restraints, but logic pushed through the red haze overtaking his vision at the sight of her so subjugated. There were too many people around him for him to do anything. If he ran to her now, they would subdue him, he needed a distraction, he needed a plan…

A part of him ached to have to wait, a part of him raged at seeing her chained down.

He would make them all pay.

His vision of Ahmanet was cut off when Jekyll stepped in front of him, his arms wide in introduction. “Welcome to Prodigium, Mr. Morton. From the Latin: "Monstrum Vel Prodigium: A warning of monsters.” Forgive the state of things. We had very little time to prepare for our guest. And only the information Jennifer provided to go on.”

It wasn’t till Jekyll mentioned Jenny that Nick even realized she was there, standing a few feet away from him, frowning at him.

“In truth, she works for us,” Jekyll continued. “And you’re very lucky she does.” He chuckled slightly as he moved to stand beside her. “Had she not informed us of your…claims at the pub, we never would have realized our guest had come to life till it was too late. Thankfully, we had already been searching the crash site for her and followed the trail of debris to the church where she had you in her clutches. It appears we saved your neck, Mr. Morton, quite literally as it were.”

Nick could only glance at the two of them a moment longer before his gaze was pulled back to Ahmanet. So they thought she had been trying to strangle him in the church? They thought they were SAVING him from her? He wanted to laugh at that, he was safest when he was with her. He was complete when he was with her.

A small echo moved through his mind, like a fading memory, something about Jenny and fifteen seconds of intimacy. He wanted to laugh even more at that. He had shared an intimacy with Ahmanet more intense and powerful than he had ever felt with anyone, even Jenny, and it was proving to last far, far longer than fifteen seconds and he knew, deep down, that it would last forever if he had anything to say about it.

From her position held down, her eyes locked on his, Ahmanet’s lip quirked up in a smirk.

“It’s not an exact science, this business,” Jekyll sighed, not seeming to notice anything off.

“And the business being?” Nick forced himself to ask. The more he knew about this place, about the people and their directive, the more useful it would be when the time came to stand against them

He needed to know how his enemy worked in order to conquer them.

“Evil, Mr. Morton,” Jekyll answered. “Recognized, contained, examined, destroyed. She is, by far, the most ancient we have ever encountered.”

Ahmanet let out a pained gasp and arched her neck backwards as though to try and get it away from something.

Nick barely resisted the urge to touch his own neck as he felt it too, a heat flowing into his body from his neck. “What are you doing to her?”

“Embalming her with mercury,” Jekyll stated. “At -38 degrees the mercury in her veins will solidify and she should be safe for dissection then.”

“Dissection?!” Jenny finally spoke, sounding alarmed by it. “You said that we'd study her!”

“Yes, by dissection.”

“But she is a living witness to a history that we barely know!”

Nick couldn’t help the way his right hand curled into a fist, invisible to the others who stood on his left, feeling fury fill him at how they were speaking, as though Ahmanet wasn’t right there, as though she were just a…a thing to be talked about instead of a person talked TO.

Jekyll wanted to dissect her like an animal, like a specimen in a lab. Jenny wanted to use her for information, to fill in gaps in history. Neither of them CARED about her.

Neither of them cared about how her entire life had been built up to a single purpose, to rule her country…and it was taken from her. Neither of them cared about the utter devastation and hopelessness she’d felt that she’d had no other choice but to sell her own soul to Set for help reclaiming her birthright. Neither of them cared about how her plans had been torn to pieces and she had been captured and bound and imprisoned as though she weren’t their ruler but a monster.

They didn’t care about her pain or her joys, they wanted to use her.

And he would be damned if he let them.

“She is a threat, Jennifer,” Jekyll was arguing, though Nick barely heard it, a pounding in his ears causing a ringing in his head.

But a single thought did get through to him, when he saw how Ahmanet was looking at HIM with concern. He wanted to reassure her he was fine, but that was when he realized the cause of her fear.

“Hold on, hold on,” he cut in, turning to them. “Where does that leave me?”

Because if they were planning to dissect HER…and they clearly thought he had some reason to be there if they’d captured him too…then they had plans for him as well. WHAT would they do to HIM after they’d finished with her? THAT was why she was gazing at him so, she knew, even before he’d realized it, that he’d been brought there for Prodigium’s purposes not her own.

“Cursed, Mr. Morton,” Jekyll stepped over to him. “This is not some common cold you have. Some chicken soup and a good night sleep will not make it go away. You have been selected as the vessel for the ultimate evil. And we are the only ones who can rectify that.”

Ahmanet spoke just then, her voice echoing through the room, soft yet powerful, alluring in its grasp of her ancient language.

Nick didn’t know if anyone else could understand her, but he could. To him it sounded like her voice was caressing him, soothing any lingering fears or doubts that Jekyll could have ever brought out of him.

 _“You cannot change your fate,_ ” she whispered.

Nick inhaled deeply at that, gazing at her.

To anyone else, he was sure, her words sounded like a threat or a warning, but to him…to him it was a promise and a reassurance. Because he didn’t. He didn’t want his fate to be changed, not when it was so entwined with hers. He didn’t want whatever curse they thought existed to be broken. He didn’t consider it a curse, it was…it was a blessing, to be her Chosen.

“ _The curse will never be broken_ ,” she continued as though reading his mind. “ _My Chosen One was murdered. You will take his place._ ”

Nick almost smiled at that, feeling a dark satisfaction pool in his stomach at her words. Her Chosen had been murdered…because her Chosen didn’t deserve her, her Chosen wasn’t ordained by the gods the way he was. His last name literally had the word "death" in it, if that weren't a sign of his fate being tied to the God of Death he didn't know what was. He was destined for Ahmanet in a way her previous Chosen wasn't. That Chosen could never serve her and worship her like he could.

" _I will be your only Chosen?_ " Nick found himself asking, completely unaware he'd said it out loud, completely unaware he'd said it in her ancient language.

Ahmanet nodded, her gaze locked on him. His use of her native language was an intriguing development, one that further solidified and proved the hold she had over him.

"You'll kill him!" Jenny cried, seeing Nick slowly walking towards the mummy in a daze, needing to snap him out of it especially after hearing him speaking a language he couldn't possibly know unless it was due to the mummy before him.

Ahmanet shook her head as much as she could. “ _I will not kill him…_ ” She inhaled and used her connection to his mind just as he had hers. “I will give him eternal life,” she told them, using English. “Make him a living God.”

Jenny frowned as she looked between Ahmanet and Nick. He was staring at her, unblinking, his gaze almost…enthralled…and she needed to help him, break him free of her hold. “You murdered your father,” she called out, bringing up every broken piece of information she had on the legend she knew, hoping to jar Nick out of his trance with the truth of the princess before them.

Ahmanet turned her head to Jenny and Nick blinked a few times at the loss of eye contact. “I loved my father with all my heart. I only wanted his love in return.”

Nick shook his head slightly, starting to feel a deep rooted distaste for having his attention ripped from Ahmanet the way it kept being. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, it always left him cold and hollow feeling when he was forced to look away from her, when the connection that flared between them was cut off.

He wanted to glare at Jenny, but all he could do was stare at Ahmanet, listening to her entrancing voice as she was forced to tell her story to strangers who had attacked her, as she was forced to defend herself. He knew her story, he’d lived it, she had shared it with him willingly. The moment the male child had been born…her father would never again love her, would never focus on her, she would be as good as dirt to him now that he had a male heir to take her place. Even before the child had been born, her father had placed his love in others above her, the servant girl who bore his son. She was only useful to him and the object of his fatherly affection while she was heir.

It wasn’t just a sibling rivalry, it was a literal loss of love, something she craved. He could feel it pounding his heart, her need to have someone want her with a love her all encompassing. Something he could easily do with everything in him.

“You killed his wife!” Jenny continued to accuse. “Their child.”

“They were different times.”

A part of Nick knew he should be as disgusted as Jenny sounded. But his mind flashed back to that image of the desert, a weight settling into his mind that whispered of exactly what the times were like, what the culture was like. He had no right, as a modern, American man, to criticize someone of an ancient time, a different culture, and a different religion for how they lived their life. He didn't go around commenting on how rulers centuries ago would behead enemies and put their heads on pikes. He didn't go around saying that the Ancient Romans and Greeks were heathens for worshiping more than one god. It was the culture, it was the time, and it was not his right to judge those that lived IN it.

All he felt was a dissatisfaction with how Jenny was acting.

But then Ahmanet turned her gaze back to him, locking eyes with him, and all discontent feelings just…washed away when she smiled at him.

...he was pulled back to Egypt, to the sands where the princess stood before him, holding his hands, free of her chains. “The day of the awakening will soon be upon us,” she whispered to him, standing so close to him he could feel her pressed to his chest.

She leaned up to kiss him and he ducked his head eagerly, willing her to see that nothing had changed, that he was still on HER side in all things. And when he pulled away, he found himself lying on a bed in the middle of the cool Egyptian night, a silken canopy billowing around him from a room clearly created for royalty. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized it was Ahmanet’s chambers from her past.

And there she was, his princess, his goddess, walking towards him through the billowing cloths, her white gown seeming looser around her, her hair unbound, her body free of its jewels.

“You will become Set,” she intoned. “The world will fall to your desire. You will have power of life, over death. And you will have me…” She reached the end of the bed and reached up a slow hand to the front of her dress, a light tug all that was needed for it to fall away, baring her body to him as she had her soul. “I will be your queen,” she added, leaning in to crawl over him on the bed. “Now that you have given in,” she smiled down at him as his hand immediately came up to cup her cheek, wind around her waist, needing to touch her skin having been tempted by the sight of her.

“Nick!” a voice called out to him, sounding far away and muddled, like he was hearing it through water. “Nick, wake up.” It sounded like Jenny. “Wake up.”

Nick started to shake his head, making Ahmanet smile even wider at his refusal to leave their world, the vision she’d created for them. But her gaze grew concerned and warning as she tilted her head to look at him, touching his cheek as well.

“They will kill you,” she warned. “Just as they killed my Chosen before you.”

“No,” he murmured, guiding her face closer to his, leaning up to brush his lips to hers. “I won’t let them.” He pulled away to gaze into her eyes, a promise heavy in them. “I am yours.”

She let out a breath and leaned in to his ear. “It burns…”

He blinked at that, pulling back lightly to look at her, concerned at the pain he heard in her voice. “What?”

She merely gave him an agonized look before screaming, “It BURNS!”

...Nick gasped as he stumbled away from the grate, now back in Prodigium’s chamber, Ahmanet screaming in pain before him as the mercury was pumped into her in a higher quantity.

He could feel the increase of it in his own neck, could feel her anguish and suffering as though it were his own and before he could stop himself he started shouting. “Stop it!” at the others, struggling to step closer to Ahmanet, who was whimpering and sounded like she was crying, and wanting to lunge at Jekyll at the same time. “Stop it! Stop! Stop it!” He turned to Ahmanet as she slumped forward in her chains, the mercury lessening minutely, reaching out to her before stumbling back as the shock of being pulled out of the vision hit him. “Stop!”

He looked up a moment later, panting, to see Jenny staring at him in devastation while Jekyll was more curious.

“Fascinating,” Jekyll remarked, glancing between him and Ahmanet as the woman glared at him.

Nick let out a deep breath, hoping he had not just foiled his own plans, but it didn't seem like he had. The way Jenny and Jekyll were looking at him held nothing he imagined it would had they been privy to what he'd said to Ahmanet in the vision. He was relieved for only a moment that the visions were only between him and Ahmanet, that no one else could hear them. But his relief died quickly as his mind replayed what happened just moments ago. She had been screaming, she had been in pain, because of him, because he had been in the vision with her too long and it had concerned the others enough to raise the mercury levels. He just…he wanted it to stop, he wanted them to stop hurting her.

…he had to think of a plan and do it quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided, about 4 chapters is what the story will be :-) So we're halfway there! But...I may also have another, different Nick/Ahmanet one-shot in mind for when this is finished :-)
> 
> I think the moment when Nick and Ahmanet were in Prodigium and in that vision was when I really started to wonder if her hold would be stronger without Jenny there constantly interrupting. He seemed to almost fall to Ahmanet's will in the vision, till Jenny kept insisting he wake up. And it made me think of the church scene, how Jenny kept interrupting his thoughts that they were in the right place, and then interrupted (sort of) the failed ritual. What would have happened if she hadn't interrupted and Nick was left with Ahmanet for an extended period? Now that he's under her power, even if she interrupts now, it won't do anything but annoy him ;-)


	3. Plans to Fruition

Nick found himself sitting on the catwalk a short while later, staring down at Ahmanet, his mind racing with everything he could think of to get her out of there. The mercury was steadily lowering in temperature, time was running out and he REFUSED to fail her.

…now if Jenny would just leave him alone so he could THINK…

“What was I supposed to tell you?” she was saying, as though the reason for the silence he’d bestowed upon her from the moment she’d joined him sitting there was due to that. “Would you even have believed me if I said that this place was real?”

“So you lied to me,” he said simply.

"You lied to me too," she pointed out. "You said you were going to a hotel, but you went right to her."

Nick's jaw clenched at how Jenny had said "her" as though it were some vile poison. "I didn't know," he offered her, lying through his teeth. "I was walking to the hotel...and next thing I knew, I was at the church."

“She's using you,” Jenny breathed, nodding along with what he'd said. “Look. Despite what you might think, despite my...my better judgment, I care about you. Somewhere in there, fighting to get out is a good man.”

“You don't know that,” he stated, no edge or anything in his voice as he gazed down at Ahmanet, barely paying attention to what Jenny was saying anyway.

“I do,” she insisted.

“How?”

“You saved my life on that plane. You gave me the only parachute without hesitation.”

Nick paused to consider that, consider her words, how she saw that situation…and how…how it really was.

“I thought there was another one,” he offered, and that was NOT how it really was.

As he looked back on it now, he could see it, he had been changed from the moment he’d shot that rope holding Ahmanet’s sarcophagus down. He had been HERS the moment he’d done it and everything that happened after that was for her. _Everything_.

He could have refused to call his commanding officer when Jenny demanded he do that. He could have cited a dozen different reasons not to do it, especially the fact that insurgents were heading for them and the time it would take for them to raise the box.

But he hadn’t.

He’d called his officer, he’d gotten that box out of the hole…because HE wanted it out. He wanted it in their custody, he wanted it in that plane with him. He didn’t want to leave it anymore than Jenny had, so he’d gone with her wishes to have it lifted out. On the plane, he’d given her the last parachute, but NOT because he wanted her to live instead of himself, not because he thought there was another one…but because he felt it in his bones. He HAD to stay with the box. If that plane was going down with Ahmanet on it, he would too.

And there was also this…sensation…that took him over. Like a…craving, a NEED to stay there despite knowing he was likely about to die. He felt like it was a necessary moment in order to progress something even greater. And he realized now that it was for Ahmanet. He'd felt a reassurance settle on him, like he KNEW he would be alright, that he’d walk out of it unscathed. Because Ahmanet was there, and HE was her Chosen and she would protect him.

She had.

Ahmanet had ensured he survived and he would do the same for her now.

“Mr. Morton,” Jekyll called behind him. “Drink?”

Nick glanced back at the man for a moment before he stood, looking down at Ahmanet as the woman lifted her head to gaze up at him…

…he smiled when he blinked and found himself back in Egypt, the heat of the sun on him, and knelt in the sand that was warm beneath his legs to be level with Ahmanet as the woman remained on her knees. He knew it was serious, it was getting bad now, her strength was fading due to the mercury if she couldn’t even stand in her own vision.

He reached out to touch her face with both of his hands, lifting her chin to gaze into her pained eyes. “I will get you out,” he whispered to her, promising her, now aware that, while in these visions, no one else could hear them. “I promise you.”

“Setepa'i…” she breathed, lifting her hands to press his to her cheeks.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I will find a way to distract their leader so they will have no one to command them. But if I do, I won’t be able to stop the mercury at the same time.”

She started to smile at his words. “That… _I_ can stop.”

He moved in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as her eyes fluttered closed. “You will be free.”

He pulled away minutely, giving her a determined look as he nodded and stood again, turning around…

...right into Prodigium once more, turning to face Jekyll as he followed the man out of the room, a plan in mind.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Ahmanet could not keep the smile off her face despite the burning sensation in her neck. Her Chosen had chosen HER in return, and wasn’t that the most divine feeling. The way he had reacted, the thoughts she was privy to in his mind? She felt a rush through her when she had mentioned her former Chosen, to see his glee that the ritual had failed then, because it meant HE could be her Chosen now. 

She had not thought her hold on him would be so strong. She had never dared to hope that he would fall to her sway and into her thrall the way he had, so willingly, so devotedly. He surprised her and she adored that.

Her former Chosen, he had been a mere servant of her father’s, had been a man brought in to teach her to fight. But he sought power and he had a strong body, she thought him…not the perfect vessel, but a willing one. He would have allowed Set in for the power it would grant him, not out of a love and loyalty to her.

She had been at peace with that, once Set had possessed him, all that remained of the man would be gone. In his place would stand Set, and she would be his queen, the bond between the two of them would have been complete. Set was a god of darkness and magic, feared more than he was worshiped. He wanted to ascend to Earth, to regain the power the gods had lost to humans, but he needed someone to ground his power. That was where she had come in, she was born of the Earth, her body would become a lodestone, tying him to the mortal realm once he entered. 

And he would love her, for she would be part of him. His power existed in every part of her, his magic and his darkness had merged with her. He would love her and be loyal to her, as she would him, for they would be two parts of a greater whole, unable to be parted. She had wanted that, craved that love, to be so worshiped and devoted to.

Her former Chosen was…pleasing to the eye and greedy for power, unknowing of how it would change him, how it would tie him to HER for eternity.

Her new Chosen though. He pleased her more than she ever hoped, and he hadn’t even become Set yet. He loved her, he worshiped her, he was utterly devoted to her and would see her plans through to the end even knowing it meant he would be possessed by Set.

He was…eager for it. And not for power, though she could taste a desire for it in his mind. But there was something else he desired more. HER. He wanted her, he wanted to please her, he was willing to do anything to make her happy. And that was a sensation she could not remember having ever felt. She could feel herself tingling at the thought of being able to explore the depth of his devotion, felt a curiosity as to how that would affect the ritual once Set entered him, to have his host already so bound to her will…

“ _What you have seen…_ ”

Ahmanet looked up from where she had been gathering her strength, pulled out of her delicious thoughts of exploring her Chosen, to see the blonde woman that always stood too close to her Chosen now before her, speaking in the ancient tongue of her people.

“ _What you must know. I have studied the word of the Old Gods…_ ”

Ahmanet scoffed at that. “The _Old_ Gods?” She tilted her head to observe the woman, taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in the fact that the woman seemed completely unaware of where her Chosen’s loyalty truly lied. “Your language is simple. What you truly wish to know...is what lies beyond the veil of death. To know what _I_ have seen?”

“Yes,” the woman breathed.

Ahmanet smirked. “And you will,” she promised, her smirk darkening. “When my Chosen kills you.”

The woman stiffened at that, inhaling sharply. “Nick is not your Chosen.”

“He is,” Ahmanet taunted. “He will be. You cannot break our bond. It is…everlasting.”

Part of her knew she should not speak such to the woman, or risk her seeing the truth of her Chosen’s devotion. But another part wanted to warn her away from what was HERS. The woman had an obsession with her Chosen, and that would not do. She had lost all those who would have ever loved her in the past, she would NOT lose the one who loved her now.

“We will find a way,” the woman countered, turning to go.

“They have found the stone,” Ahmanet called out. “You brought my Chosen here. What do you think they will do with him now?”

She took enormous satisfaction in how the blonde woman glanced at the dagger of Set, encased in a glass, and rushed out of the room. She chuckled under her breath before closing her eyes to summon what little power her weakened body had left to help her escape. 

She didn’t doubt her Chosen would take care of this place’s leader…but having the blonde woman equally as distracted could only help.

…and imagining the look on the woman’s face when her Chosen DID kill her, for HER, in the end…well, she was certain reality would taste much sweeter.

Now she just had to turn the mercury off. She looked to the edge of the grate she was chained to, smirking when the smallest of beetles crept out of it, a black beetle summoned by the power of Set.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Nick stared at a series of skulls on display in Jekyll’s office, his gaze glancing to the side, to the wall of medical equipment…all locked behind a pane of glass. He crossed that off his list of possible distractions, he’d have to shatter the glass first and that would set off alarms with anyone nearby that something was off.

“Welcome to a new world of Gods and Monsters,” Jekyll spoke behind him, holding up a glass of whiskey for him. He turned around and downed it quickly, needing his hands free. “Evil has many names, Mr. Morton. Take Set, for example. Known to Egyptians as the God of Death. In the Old Testament: Satan, Lucifer…”

“The Devil,” he cut in. “Got it.” He stepped past Jekyll and looked around for anything else he could use. Time was ticking, he needed to get Ahmanet out of there. 

“You see Evil is the shadow that exists just outside our world, continuously searching for a way to come in for a way to become flesh and blood…”

Nick paused, hearing Jekyll grunt behind him and turned to look over his shoulder at the man struggling to get a stopper out of more alcohol. His eyes narrowed at the sight of it, the man seemed tense and straining…in a very similar way to how he had just before he’d injected himself.

“Either we wait for that day to arrive,” Jekyll continued to speak, his voice growing deeper with restraint. “Or we can fight it on our own terms.”

Nick smirked as he realized, whatever “evil pathogen” had infected the man earlier, whichever reason he’d needed to inject himself with that chemical…it was on the cusp of happening again.

And now he’d found his distraction.

“Which brings me to you.”

Nick jolted, quickly putting on an innocent and eager expression. “You said that you could cure me of this curse,” he remarked, moving his hands behind his back so Jekyll couldn’t see him making a fist at just the thought of being broken from Ahmanet. “Get rid of it. So, let's do it doc. What's your plan?”

He needed to know. He needed to know what they were going to do about it so he could stop them from doing it.

“Mr. Morton, these things are complex. When one is dealing with the salvation of humanity certain sacrifices must be made.”

“Excuse me, sir,” a voice called and they looked over to see the man that had led Nick to the office in the first place had entered, giving Jekyll a firm nod.

“They found it,” Jekyll breathed.

Nick tensed behind him, unseen by the man, fighting off a smirk. He could guess what they’d found. If they had him, Ahmanet, and the dagger…the only thing missing was the stone.

“Henry!” Jenny stormed in after the guard. “Are you planning on killing him?”

“Jennifer…” Jekyll sighed, “Mr. Morton here essentially killed himself when he severed the barrier chain that had kept Ahmanet's power imprisoned for 5,000 years. He was chosen as her ideal candidate. A thief, physically capable, compulsively devious, and utterly devoid of soul.”

Nick just barely managed to refrain from smirking at that, deeply wanting to argue. He hadn’t killed himself, he’d bound himself to Ahmanet, he’d bound them both together. But he felt a thrill shoot through him at how Jekyll had said HE was her ideal candidate. It didn’t even matter the insults the man threw about his devious nature or lack of soul, all that mattered was that he WAS her ideal candidate. HE was her Chosen, regardless of what it meant about who he was as a person, who he was was something SHE wanted.

“You want to put the stone in the dagger and stab him with it?!” Jenny nearly shouted, offended on his behalf.

“The dagger will allow Set to enter his body. And then we obliterate it.”

THAT got Nick speaking, a deep frown on his face. “Wait, wait, wait. Do you want to stab me with that thing? Intentionally?”

He was sure, to Jenny and Jekyll that it sounded more like he was horrified by the prospect, alarmed that was the plan. In truth, he was more alarmed at the fact that THEY wanted to stab him, that Jekyll firmly planned to be the one to do it…instead of Ahmanet.

No. No, that wasn’t going to work. He was NOT going to let anyone but her complete the ritual. And the part about obliterating him? He had sworn to her that he wouldn’t let them kill him, he was hers, and he would return to her. He was not about to let them destroy her plans. Not when she was so close to having everything she wanted, not when HE was on the cusp of giving everything to her.

“Precisely what the Egyptians should have done,” Jekyll continued, unfazed. “You see, they interrupted a ritual in process and that is mistake we cannot…” He cleared his throat. “Afford to repeat.” He offered them a tense smile and moved to his desk.

“Henry you can't possibly do this!” Jenny cried.

But Nick was focused more on Jekyll’s returned tension, how he was struggling to open the case on his desk that he knew held the man’s medicine.

“The dominoes are already falling,” Jekyll grunted. “We haven't much time. Unfortunately, it is a risk we must take!” He threw open the case and started to frantically fill the injector with the vials.

“That’s the plan…” Nick murmured, staring at the vials, nodding to himself minutely, his thoughts on how to cause the distraction coming together.

Jekyll misinterpreted his words, letting out a strained huff as he looked up at them, impatient now. “You heard Ahmanet. Your curse cannot be broken. I am truly sorry, Mr. Morton. No matter what _I_ do, you are going to die.”

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Ahmanet smirked as her beetle reached its target, crawling into the ear of the man in charge of administering the mercury, taking control of him. 

She could already feel the mercury slowing as he turned the machine off.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

“Yes, evil is a disease,” Jekyll continued. “A pestilent, pustulant infection burrowing its way into our souls. The world needs a cure. You can be that cure. A sacrifice for the greater good! Ahh!” he cried out, his arm jerking and flinging the injector away as though the evil inside him was fighting him.

Nick grabbed it quickly, keeping it away from him.

“Don't!” the guard called behind him but Nick was focused on Jekyll.

“Give me the injector!” the man shouted.

Nick shook his head. “That’s not part of the plan.”

“We have to go!” he could hear the guard speak.

“You don't know what you are doing!” Jekyll warned.

“I really don’t care,” Nick told the man.

Suddenly Jekyll shot up from where he was nearly collapsed on his desk, his eyes flashing as his skin began to grow greyer. “Oh my dear, Henry Jekyll,” he spoke, his voice taking on an entirely different accent and intonation. “If ever I've seen Satan’s signature upon a face it is on that of your new friend.”

Nick jerked back at that, seeing the guard grab Jenny in the reflection of the glass wall.

“Run, Mr. Morton!” Jekyll cried, falling down onto the desk.

“What?”

“RUN!” the man shouted, slamming his fist onto a red button on the desk, causing alarms to sound and a heavy metal door at the back of the room to stat shutting.

He turned and ran for the door, following the guard and Jenny…only to get locked in.

He paused a moment, letting out a breath. Well…he certainly hadn’t expected THIS when he’d formed his half-assed plan. He’d thought he could unleash the man’s evil on the others, have HIM be the distraction so he could get Ahmanet out. He hadn’t counted on the man sealing the room off. 

He slowly turned to see Jekyll, completely grey-faced with amber eyes striding towards him…and lunged forward to grab the man’s hand, pressing it to the door’s scanner...but it didn’t work. Instead of reading “H. Jekyll” as it had earlier, it now read “E. Hyde.”

“They won't let me out, Nicholas,” the man sneered. “They never do.”

Nick grunted as he was thrown backwards, landing on the ground with a pained groan…

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Ahmanet gasped as though feeling her Chosen's pain, sensing the danger he was in, and turned her head to the side, focusing more of her power now that it was returning to her. She needed more control than just the mercury dying off. She needed to be free. Her Chosen might be in jeopardy and she had NOT been lying before that she refused to lose another.

She could hear it echoing in her mind through the hold her beetle had on the young technician.

“What's happening?” another man was asking. “Did you just shut down the mercury? Pete?”

She smirked as the technician in her hold grabbed an axe from a cabinet, her command to free her echoing in his mind…

She laughed loudly when the man drove the axe into an odd metal box, creating sparks flying, setting off alarms…but she could feel it. Everything around her that had been holding her back was falling away, shutting down. There was chaos now, the humans were running everywhere, trying to get out as though they knew she'd soon be free.

She took a breath and forced the mercury out of her system, expelling it onto the grate before her, gagging slightly as she tried to cough it all up. She gasped a moment later, feeling her strength return.

She closed her eyes and focused on her Chosen…

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Nick gasped as he struggled against Hyde, lying on top of the man’s desk, still with the injector in his grasp. He’d held off using it, he HAD to, Ahmanet needed the distraction. While he dealt with Hyde, he could see Jenny and Jekyll's head of security fighting, distracted, on the other side of the glass wall. So long as he was facing down Hyde, Jenny would keep trying to get to him, which would force the head of security to focus on her instead of checking on Ahmanet. He had taken every beating the man tried to give him, taken the taunts, refused to actually use the medicine that would stop him…

Until he felt a peace and satisfaction wash over him and he smirked, just knowing it meant Ahmanet had stopped the mercury. She needed him NOW.

He smirked and grabbed the metal case that once held Jekyll’s medicine, using it to slam into Hyde’s face, sending him staggering back. He shoved himself off the desk and turned, stabbing the man in the chest with it, injecting him.

The grey began to fade from his face, the amber in his eyes dimming. “Well done, Mr. Morton,” the man spoke, his voice more like Jekyll’s again, sounding relieved. “Well done.”

Nick shook his head, leaning in. “Stab me if you want,” he told the man. “But if you think I’ll let you ruin her plans?” He shook his head, taking pleasure in how shocked the man looked as the words registered, as his loyalties were laid bare. “You’ve got another thing coming.”

And with that, he grabbed Jekyll’s shirt and threw himself back, throwing them both over the desk and sending the man crashing head first into the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter left :-) I'm very excited :-)


	4. Victory

Nick panted as he pulled himself up, looking back when the metal door to Jekyll's office groaned open and Jenny ran in.

“Come on,” she grabbed his arm, trying to pull him after her. “We have to destroy the stone.”

“What?” he shook his head, struggling against her hold.

She mistook the action for shock. “No stone, no ritual. No ritual…”

“No curse,” Nick realized.

“Yes,” Jenny smiled. “I know where it is.”

Nick grabbed her arm tightly, turning to lead the way out of the room. He had to find that stone first, it was never more imperative. If the new plan was to destroy it…he HAD to get it first, for Ahmanet.

They ran into the holding room, to see fires and equipment exploding everywhere, people scattering and screaming. Nick looked around only a moment, seeing his way to Ahmanet blocked and dashed up a spiral staircase to the catwalk, if he could get to the other side, he could get down to her and…

He shoved a man blocking his way down, punching him firmly to knock him out, raising slowly when he saw Ahmanet below, looking up at him with a relieved and pleading expression on her face.

“Ahmanet…” he breathed. He blinked...

…and found himself back in Egypt, standing before his princess on the dunes. He reached out instantly to cup her face with his hands, pressing a frantic kiss to her lips.

“They want to destroy the stone,” he warned her quickly. “We need to get it before they can.”

Ahmanet nodded, opening her mouth to answer, to work out a plan…

When he was ripped out of the vision once more, finding himself being shoved down the catwalk by Jenny.

“No!” he shouted, hearing Ahmanet scream painfully at the sensation. He could feel it in his soul, being pulled away from him like that affected her just as much as it pained him. He tried to run back in, but Jenny was right there. He had to lose her. If he went after Ahmanet, Jenny would follow him and try to stop them, she’d hinder their plans.

He needed…he needed a way to escape without being seen…

He spun around when he heard a whisper on the wind, Ahmanet’s voice echoing through his mind.

“ _God of Death_!” she was calling in her ancient tongue. “ _Protect my Chosen. I summon the Sands of Egypt_!”

Nick smirked as he turned and ran, not even caring if Jenny followed him. If he could get out of the building, he just knew Ahmanet’s power would be at work, and if she had literally summoned the sands of Egypt…it would be the perfect cover to escape. He didn’t even notice the glass shattering behind him as he ran, looking straight up into the sky the second he was outside, staring in awe of his love’s power when a massive sandstorm descended on them.

He could hear Jenny shouting for him through it, but turned and ran straight into the heart of it, following the pull he knew meant Ahmanet was near. It was almost as though he were immune to the fierce winds and biting sand whipping around him, walking without issue through it. And he knew it was Ahmanet, protecting him even now.

He stopped short when he saw her, his princess, his goddess, standing in the middle of it all, the Dagger of Set in her hand, her arms wide, lost in the throes of the power she’d summoned. She was the most alluring, divine presence he’d ever seen. He found himself walking towards her without realizing it, only snapping out of it when his hands settled on her waist, causing her to gasp and turn in his hold. 

“Ahmanet,” he whispered, smiling at her.

She grinned in return, murmuring, “Setepa’i.”

As he gazed at her, staring into her eyes, he could feel how drawn he was to her and it had nothing to do with the vision of the princess he would often see when he looked at her. It wasn’t happening now. He saw her as she was, pale skin, split-eyes, black hair, with her mummification wraps in tatters around her, barely holding on.

He saw her, he SAW her, and her eyes still captivated him as much as ever. He saw everything in her eyes, her pain, her joy, her sorrow, her hope…he saw himself reflected back. He saw his future in her eyes.

His drifted shut as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her in the middle of her sandstorm, his heart pounding when he felt her return the kiss, her arms around his neck.

He let out a light breath when they pulled away, giving her a smug, satisfied smirk. “Let’s go find that stone.”

Ahmanet grinned darkly at that.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

A smirk grew across Ahmanet's face as she stepped around a corner of a tunnel, looking down at the four bodies of soldiers lying unconscious on the ground, her Chosen standing over them. His expression morphed into that of satisfaction and pride when he saw her pleased look.

“You fought for me,” she remarked, slowly moving closer to him, stepping over the bodies to take his hands in her own.

She had led him down the tunnel in the direction the stone was calling to her and when her shadow appeared along the wall, a weapon went off, taking out a handful of lights strung on the wall. Her Chosen had pulled her back, had given her a devious smirk before dropping to the ground and crawling around the corner. She could hear him shouting to the soldiers, begging for help, shouting something about a monster in the tunnels and, please, dear god, help him! The second he got near enough to the men, she’d heard the sounds of fists clashing and thumping, and stepped around to see he had incapacitated all of them. For her. So she wouldn’t have to use more of her strength before the ritual was complete.

“I will always fight for you,” he swore to her, lifting her hands to press a kiss to the backs of them.

She felt a small breath leave her at the action. It was such an odd feeling, to have him react so strongly to her, to be so open in his clear attraction to her. She knew, despite having fed off of a technician in that holding cell, that her body was not what it once was. She knew others saw her as a monster, a living corpse. They looked at her with fear of what she was not who she was. But not her Chosen. Her Chosen looked at her as though he saw HER, Ahmanet, regardless of her present state, he saw her.

“The stone is on the other side?” her Chosen spoke, nodding at the door sealed just beside them that the men were guarding.

“Yes,” she agreed, stepping up to the wall and resting a hand on it, the Dagger of Set clutched in it. She closed her eyes and focused her power, inhaling as she drew her strength. “ _Arise, my warriors, and serve me_!”

Nick shivered at the sound of her ancient language falling from her tongue. His head turned quickly to the door and away from her at the sounds of yelling behind it. He knew there were more people on the other side, a stone as important as the dagger’s wouldn’t just have four men standing in front of it, but far more on the other side. Ahmanet had summoned her power, had done something to eliminate the threat within that room. 

The tiniest piece of him felt he should be alarmed at the screams he was hearing, knowing that her warriors were dealing with their enemies in the only way they could. But the rest of him could only see them as that, their enemies. They were there to keep the stone from Ahmanet, perhaps were even attempting to destroy it as they spoke. They were trying to hinder her plans and eliminate her and he would NEVER allow that to happen.

His thoughts were cut off when the doors before them creaked open, revealing a dozen or more skeletons dressed in crusader armor, all taking a knee to the sight of their queen before them. He was tempted himself to kneel to her, but she had a grip on his hand still and had merely tugged him to step forward with her, as her equal. He wanted to argue against that. She was a goddess, he a mere worshiper, she a queen while he was a simple thief. To think himself equal to a powerful woman like her was laughable. But Ahmanet was honoring him with that position, he was not about to relinquish it to anyone else.

His gaze snapped to Ahmanet when she gently let go of his hand to move down the steps, further into the room, stepping past and over the bodies of the fallen Prodigium workers, with him following just behind her…till she reached a case that looked like Jekyll’s medicine case. She leaned down and moved it to the side, smiling when a blood red stone shown beneath it. She carefully lifted it, turning to face him as she held up both the dagger and the stone for him to see.

He could only smile as he watched her slot the stone into the dagger’s hilt…

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Ahmanet sat on a pile of rubble and rock that resembled a throne, her army of knights kneeling to her, with her Chosen standing just behind the throne, to its side, at HER side. Her gaze was locked on the entrance way she’d come from, sensing two of her other soldiers bringing a…welcome guest to her. She smirked darkly when the blonde woman infatuated with her Chosen was dragged into the room, struggling but unable to free herself from the knight’s hold.

“Nick!” the woman shouted when she caught sight of him.

“He cannot hear you,” Ahmanet warned her lightly, amusement in her eyes. 

“Nick, please!” the woman continued, even as she was forced to her knees. “Nick, you need to fight it!”

“There is nothing to fight,” Ahmanet informed her. “He has already given in. A long time ago.”

“You’re lying,” the woman spat.

Ahmanet tilted her head at that, before moving it to look at the man beside her. “Look at me,” she commanded, even though his gaze was already on her, it snapped to her eyes. “Look only at me.”

She stood, delighting in how his eyes never strayed from her, reveling in how the blonde woman looked panicked to see his attention so fixed. She slowly moved down the makeshift steps from her throne towards the woman, feeling her Chosen’s eyes on her as she went.

“Nick…please,” the woman whispered, her voice shaking.

But he made no move to show he even heard her, instead he stared at Ahmanet as though she were the only other being in the room.

“Come to me,” Ahmanet spoke just as quietly, hearing him moving before she could even finish.

He didn’t just move to her side, he touched her waist with a hand, sliding it around to her other hip, his body turned towards her, his chest pressed to her arm, staring at her intently, entranced.

“Show her,” Ahmanet added, feeling spiteful, wanting to show this woman who truly had a claim on his heart. “Show her your love.”

Nick smiled at that, leaning in as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead to her temple. His other hand came up to her right cheek, turning her head gently to face his own as he opened his eyes to gaze at her. He leaned in, pressing a firm, but no less passionate, kiss to her lips.

Jenny gasped and gaped and gagged as she saw them locked in such an embrace.

Ahmanet pulled away a moment later, a hand resting on his chest to push him back just a step. She considered him a moment, before glancing at the blonde woman. "Do you require more proof?" She began to smirk at how the woman glared at her. "Setepa'i," she remarked, gesturing her hand to the side as one of her skeleton knights approached, moving to a kneel on the other side of Nick. "Prove your loyalty." The knight pulled its sword out and offered it above his head to Nick. "Kill her."

"No!" Jenny gasped, struggling more in the hold of the knights as Nick simply turned and picked up the sword. "Nick, Nick don't!" she begged. "You don't want to do this!"

But Nick just stepped towards her, his face emotionless, but his eyes determined as they fixed on her. He moved to a stop before her and lifted the sword to rest on her shoulder, just beside her neck.

"Nick!" Jenny started crying now. "Please, fight it!"

Nick smirked at her begging. "No," he told her simply, before lifting the sword away from her and higher, turning slightly to grip the hilt with both hands, as though he were holding a bat. 

"NICK!" Jenny screamed as he brought the sword racing down to her, aimed at her neck.

"Or..." Ahmanet's voice spoke, stilling Nick's hand just as the blade reached Jenny's shoulder, creating the smallest cut to the side of it, not deep enough to kill her, but certainly enough to create a trail of blood dripping down from it.

Nick stilled, his gaze fixed on Jenny's neck and not her heartbroken and terrified expression. "Ahmanet?"

Ahmanet, however, WAS looking at Jenny's expression, reveling in the shock and betrayal, the hopelessness and realization in it, the woman finally saw that Nick was HERS. "Perhaps a gift for Set, would be a better use for her."

Nick merely removed the sword from Jenny's side, leaving the woman to release a shuddering breath and wince at the pain of the cut. "She has caused many problems," Nick mused, his gaze flickering to Jenny, revealing the depth of the sway Ahmanet held over him that he looked at her as a mere enemy, an obstacle standing in his way and needing to be removed than a person he'd once had a connection to. "She should be dealt with. Punished. By the one she opposes."

Ahmanet smiled at that, seeing his agreement that the woman should be left for Set to do with as he pleased, punished as he saw fit for constantly trying to hinder his plans to return. "My love."

Nick turned to face her instantly, turning his back on Jenny's crumpling expression.

“Prove your devotion.”

Nick dropped the sword and stepped back over to her till he was right beside her. He reached up and tugged on his shirt, opening the buttons enough to bear his heart to her, his gaze still trained on her, unable to hear, or perhaps ignoring, the cries Jenny was yelling just a few feet away, begging him one final time to fight, to stop. But why would he? Why would he stop? THIS was what he wanted. Why would he fight when it was his ally before him?

Ahmanet’s pleased look was enough to make him smile in return.

“Setepa’i,” she murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips, and one to the bare skin above his heart, before she lifted the Dagger of Set before him, lightly resting the tip to his heart.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t take his eyes away from her, even as she pulled back…and drove it right into him.

He groaned as he fell to his knees, dropping to the ground as a pain overtook him, making him seize on the ground as Ahmanet stood above him, watching, and Jenny sobbed on her knees a few feet away. But all he could focus on, despite the pain, was Ahmanet’s eyes on him, watching him. She was watching over him, he knew he’d be alright. This was her will, this was her plan, and it would work. A little pain was nothing compared to what he would be giving her.

His eyes fluttered closed against his will, he would have loved to spend the rest of eternity gazing into her eyes. Images flashed across his mind, of the sands, of Egypt, of Ahmanet and Set and their pact…

He felt something creeping into him, a cold chill, followed by a burning warmth…and all the thoughts he had, all the memories he’d ever held, just…faded away…

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Ahmanet tensed as she watched her Chosen relax on the ground, his convulsions lessening…till he let out a deep breath and opened his eyes. They were blank for a moment, before she saw his irises begin to split apart, creating a set of double eyes that began to glow a powerful green. He inhaled deeply and reached for the dagger still embedded in his chest, gripping it firmly and pulling it out as he rolled himself up and onto his feet.

He looked up at her, his eyes catching her own amber, split ones, and the dagger slipped from his grasp. The red stone, which had turned black with the completion of the ritual, shattered as it hit the ground. But neither of them paid it any mind as he calmly made his way over to her. He tilted his head, examining her before he reached out and touched her chin with a finger, lifting her head that she had bowed to him.

“Setepa’i,” he murmured, his voice deeper, an echoing quality to it.

“My love,” she returned.

He tilted his head the other way, seeing something in her gaze. “Your Chosen has done well,” he remarked. “He has served us both without fail.”

“He has,” she agreed.

“You are fond of this host.” Set placed a hand on his new body’s heart.

“He was…pleasing.”

“I reward those who serve me well,” he remarked. “You and he have both.”

“My love?” Ahmanet murmured, unsure what he meant.

“You have upheld your promise,” he told her. “You have suffered greatly to do so.” His touch drifted to her cheeks, observing how unnaturally pale she was. “You deserve to be restored to your highest glory, my love.”

Ahmanet breathed in deeply at that, realizing what he meant. He wished to restore her to her human life, to resurrect her as she had him, to bring her truly back to life, make her living once more.

“And this body…” Set looked down at himself. “Perhaps death is not the end for him.”

Ahmanet watched him curiously, not understanding what he was saying…till she saw the green glow in his eyes fade, how he blinked and suddenly he had but a single pair of eyes…which began to glow green once more.

“Ahmanet…” he whispered, his hand sliding up to cup her cheek fully.

Ahmanet’s eyes widened at the sound of his voice, no longer echoing, but deeper. His eyes not split, but glowing. His touch not distant but familiar. Set was merging with her Chosen, truly combining the two of them together. He had graciously allowed part of her Chosen to survive, to be retained. A large part of him would be Set, but there was now to be a part of the old him that would live on within him. She wondered, briefly, what that part of him would recall, what he would think and feel, if he would forget his life before becoming her Chosen or retain anything from it. And she found the answer in his eyes, in the connection they still had, the access she had to his mind. Yes...he remembered her, but ONLY her. His life before he broke the chain holding her sarcophagus down was gone and only her devoted Chosen, one dedicated to restoring Set, remained...

She reached up and touched his cheek. It would be a lie to say that she had not mourned the thought of losing her Chosen to Set. He had proven to be her most loyal, one set to cherish her in all the ways she’d ever craved. She had not known what to fully expect from Set…but here he was, rewarding her Chosen (and her) by allowing some part of him to still be with HER.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips that left them gasping…until a strangled whimper reached them.

They both sharply turned their heads at once to see Jenny trying not to break down before them.

Nick tilted his head the way Set had, observing her, before he began to smirk. “A gift,” he spoke, the echo returning to his voice though his eyes remained singular, a sign of when Set became the dominate personality. “For my Chosen.”

Ahmanet watched in delight as the blonde struggled in the hold of the knights as Nick stepped towards her, squatting down to smirk at her. He reached out and, in a quick motion, was standing behind the woman, one hand holding her hands behind her back, the other under her chin to hold her head up. 

“My love,” he called to her.

She watched, entranced, as the woman began to glow golden and smiled. She stepped over, leaning down to look the woman in the eye. "I did warn you," she reminded her. "My Chosen has brought you to your death." And with that, she sealed her mouth over the woman’s, inhaling deeply to pull the life energy, newly invigorated with divine power, into herself. It burned, but in a pleasant way, a tingling way.

She gasped as she pulled away, the blonde woman’s quickly shriveling husk falling to the ground as Ahmanet stumbled back. In the blink of an eye her Chosen had caught her and steadied her, staring at her intently as she breathed deeply, feeling…life entering her more intensely than it had when she’d been reviving herself. Her eyes fell closed for a moment, resting her forehead to her Chosen's shoulder as she gathered herself.

Her eyes fluttered open a second later, looking deep into his eyes as she saw herself reflected in them, saw herself as she had been in Egypt. She looked down at her hands, seeing tanned skin, blue tipped fingers, and lifted them to her face, feeling her hair and skin, returned to its youthful glory.

“ _Beautiful_ ,” her Chosen whispered in her native tongue, a hint of echo in his voice.

She looked up at him, smiling at how he was gazing at her as though she were his world. She could feel it, in his touch, in the bond that was flaring to life between them. She could feel his love for her, his devotion and loyalty…his craving to see her empowered and restored to the throne that was stolen from her. And it wasn’t just her Chosen but Set she felt it from as well.

He had wanted to return to this world and reclaim his place as a god among men, a god in a world that was slowly forgetting the power of the gods. Now? This world had no concept of what a true god could do. He would rule and reign as a supreme being, all thanks to her. She wanted to see that happen just as much as he wished to see her restored.

Together they would conquer this world and reshape it to their design.

Their heads snapped to the side once more as stomping boots sounded, soldiers rushing in with weapons raised…Jekyll leading them in.

The man stopped short as he spotted them, his gaze flickering to Jenny’s husk, and back, working out what had happened.

Ahmanet and Nick shared a look and a smirk, before holding out their hands as the men began to fire, using their power to show Jekyll just how powerless he truly was, just how badly his plan to destroy Set would have been. They decimated his soldiers in a mere instant, turning them to ash between one bullet and the next.

They left Jekyll to live, the only one to survive in his knowledge that Prodigium had failed and would forever fail to stop them, and departed in a swirl of sand to begin their quest to conquer the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we've reached the end! :-)
> 
> I'm not sure if I'd continue this story into another fic, follow their plans and how they'd take over the world, mostly because I have no idea how that would go about lol.
> 
> But! I DO have one more idea for a Mummy story, Nick(Set)/Ahmanet, just a oneshot, which I hope to post by sometime next week. But we at least have one more to look forward to :-)


End file.
